Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
I keep staring at the shape his hip makes right above the waistband of his jeans.
He takes a paintbrush to the canvas violently, making thick lines of neon pink first, then going in with orange, then pure black. The muscles on his back stretch and tense as he works, and—
A message suddenly pops up on the screen, and I jump as it breaks my focus.
Chase Cameron
Need me again?
“Fuck,” I whisper under my breath.
I feel like I just got caught.
Even if he somehow guessed that the profile was mine…
There’s no way he can see how many times a person viewed a video, is there?
Or that I viewed all of his paintings at least a handful of times today?
Holy shit.
There probably is a way to see that.
I lock my phone like it’s a grenade that’s about to blow, but then I unlock it again a few moments later.
Logan
I used the QR code.
Chase Cameron
Knew it was you. I can’t fucking believe this profile is yours. You’ve been looking at a lot of my art.
You’re very talented.
Thank you. Want to buy a piece? Maybe the self-portrait of me that you viewed nine times today?
I pull in a shallow breath, looking out at the breeze rustling through the small garden beside me. I’m miles from Chase right now, but I may as well be right in front of him again, pinned by his gaze.
Not in the market for new art at the moment, but I’d consider it.
Fuck yeah. Are you at that big premiere right now?
At the afterparty. My costar Charlie likes any excuse to have people over.
Fancy fancy.
It’s not that exciting. My mind keeps wandering.
Wandering to my art?
That and other things. I’ve been contemplating doing something I really shouldn’t do, so your art is a good distraction.
He doesn’t respond for a moment, and I almost think he’s put off by what I said.
I’m thinking of doing a nude photoshoot isn’t exactly a message I’m going to send in written, screenshottable form, and I’m pretty sure it’s not something I’d go through with, regardless.
My phone rings a moment later and it’s even more of a shock than when he messaged me.
There’s a little video preview of his face on the screen.
Fuck.
I run my hand across my hair, sit up a little straighter, and glance behind me before I tap the button to answer.
“I didn’t even know you could video call on this app,” I tell him.
He gives me a gentle smile and I feel like he’s looking right through me from the screen. He’s in his studio now, standing in front of the pink and orange painting he was making earlier.
“If you accept a DM from someone, yep,” he says. “So what are the bad decisions you’re thinking about?”
“They’re not things I’m going to say out loud.”
“Hey. You know I’d never screw you over,” he says. “I’m trying to build a reputation of my own. I wouldn’t tell your secrets for any reason, to anyone.”
I take deep breath, leaning back. “I’m thinking of doing a nude photoshoot.”
A molten heat rolls through me. I envision all sorts of consequences laid out in front of my eyes already, but I shove that possibility aside.
“Is that right?” he asks.
I lift my eyebrows. “What, you don’t believe me?”
I can see him biting back a smile. “I mean, it would be hot, but—”
“You don’t think I would do it, do you?”
“Okay, so I know you insta-stalked me all day today, and I’ve been really flattered, I promise,” he says, and I can feel my cheeks heat. “But I did the same to you, so I know you better than you know me, now.”
“You watched videos of me online?”
He nods. “I didn’t do it all year. But today I broke down.”
I cock my head to one side. “Trust me, watching videos doesn’t mean you know me.”
“There are a metric fuckton of interviews of you up on YouTube, though,” Chase says as he starts to pace his studio, propping his phone up on some sort of ledge as he strides around, cleaning up paints and brushes. “I saw the interviews you did when you first got famous, all of the ones where they made you talk about Yard Line.”
“I did a lot of promo, yes.”
“I also saw the ones you did when you got cast as the lead in this upcoming movie,” he says, glancing at the phone. “I didn’t realize the movie you’re filming here in New York is with Andrew Lim.”
“Yes.”
“Wow,” he says softly. “He’s an incredible director.”
“I got really lucky getting the part.”
“Anyway, you’re afraid to even say ‘fuck’ in the interviews. You’re always in those collared shirts, and you sit with perfect posture, and you’re all aww shucks when people say you’re a sex symbol.”
I shift on my chair. “I’m not used to the attention, that’s all.”
“Even after a year?”